


Dance Like No One's Watching

by justcallmehero



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Gen, M/M, Stilescentric, Underage Drinking, gratuitous use of detail for dumb things, not sorry, sorry - Freeform, un-beta'd, very slight Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcallmehero/pseuds/justcallmehero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TW prompt: Stiles is secretly a dancer and doesnt want the pack to find out, but they do when they see him do a sexy dance or something at a club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Like No One's Watching

It wasn’t ever really meant to be a secret. It just sort of  _was._  And that’s not a bad thing, really, but with all this supernatural business, and being (kind of, sort of) part of a werewolf pack, secrets are like, a thing of the past.  
  
And really, sometimes he just wants something for himself. Only for him. 

To be perfectly honest, he stumbled upon it by accident.  
  
It was a calm night, and for once he was by himself. He’d pretty much been with the pack the entire day, and even though he loves (most of) them, they can kind of get to be too much to take in. Someone is  _always_  arguing or fighting with someone else, and after playing mediator for several hours on what was  _supposed_  to be a pack bonding adventure or whatever, it was time to call it quits.  
  
So, he left Derek’s half renovated home and made for his own, only to become completely bored after about thirty minutes by himself.  
  
And what does Stiles do when he’s bored?  
  
Well, normally, he’d watch porn. But after scrolling through pornhub for an hour and finding nothing appealing, he decided to look up cat videos on youtube.  
  
Cat videos turned into funny videos turned into dancing pet videos turned into dancing videos turned into dancing  _tutorial_  videos and at that point, Stiles realized he’d somehow gotten into the exciting part of youtube.  
  
The moves looked simple enough. He’s not the most coordinated person ever, but with how the steps were broken down, it was actually pretty easy to catch on.  

And… he sort of  _liked_  it.  
  
After the 6th video, he’d come up with a weird semblance of a routine that was probably nowhere near being awesome, but it was something he made himself and he was decent at it, so yeah, definitely proud of his little creation.  
  
It was fun. The movements flowing into one another in a way that he’s slowly becoming familiar with. Step here, shuffle here (crap, he could  _shuffle_ ) a turn or two.   
  
He liked it. A lot.  
  
And that is exactly why the pack couldn’t find out.  
  
Not that he isn’t used to being singled out or messed with on a daily basis, but this is something he could do without being ridiculed for.  
  
And so, the long lost art  **keeping secrets from a pack of werewolves**  was unearthed. And Stiles gladly put it to practice.

 

***  
He doesn’t know her name. She probably doesn’t know his, but that’s okay. The only thing they need to know is how to move.

 

She whips her hair around when she dips her hips and against his, and his hands make their way to her legs. And then she falls against him, laughing, and twirls around that she’s facing him. He slides over to her, and then they are only inches apart, staring at one another.  
  
She smirks. “You’re pretty good!”  
  
He grins impishly. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” she draws her hand across his chest and down his waist, fisting his shirt. “I’m Amber. How many years?”  
  
He gives her a confused look. “Stiles and, what?”  
  
“Dancing. How many years?”  
  
He clears his throat, and moves around her, but keeps his hand on her thigh. “Oh, uh. Not years. More like, a month.”  
  
Her eyes light up with undeniable interest as she leans in to him. “Really.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Interesting.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. Moves like yours? Pretty slick for a baby.”  
  
They are chest to chest and he can;t tell if it’s the bass of the song that’s currently playing resonating in his chest or if his heart is really just freaking out. Before he can reply though, her hand is on the back of his neck and her mouth is on his ear, and it feels way better than he thought something like that could, and oh wait she’s saying something.  
  


Warm breath on his skin, she tells him that she’s in charge of the dancers and routine for the club’s grand reopening in a few weeks and wonders if he’d be interested in helping out.   
  
He says yes almost immediately, and that’s probably got a lot to do with how she wraps her arms around him and runs her hands up and down his back.  
  
She shows her gratitude by grinding against him in time with the next song that plays, and Stiles is  _more_  than appreciative of her moves.  
  


***

“Hey—you leaving already?”  
  
Stiles looked up from shoveling his belongings into his backpack and saw Scott standing a few feet away from him. Stiles nodded, zipping up his bag. “Yeah. There’s not going on right now, and honestly? I’m kind of beat. You puppies seem to forget that some of us around here are human, and can;t run at speeds on par with vehicles and shit. Plus, my stamina’s never been the greatest.”  
  
Which is true, but what with all the practice he’s putting in for the routine, his stamina has increased a considerable amount. But hey, Scott doesn’t know that.  
  
Scott eyes him wearily. “I guess. I mean, that’s what training is for? To help us get better at stuff like that.”  
  
“Yeah totally. I dunno—I’m just tired? Might have something to do with staying up til 4 am watching Supernatural, which,  _admittedly_ , is probably not my best idea, but super worth it.”  
  
Scott chuckles, and nudges Stiles a bit when he walks past him. “I thought you learned your lesson from the last time you did that, dude. You like, fell asleep at practice.”  
  
“In my defense, that bench can be pretty comfortable with just the right about of junk in my bookbag.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Scott grins and turns to go back to the other in the next room. “The look Finstock gave you was like, pure evil. But whatever, dude. Get some sleep. See you tomorrow?”  
  
Stiles pulled his bag on his shoulder and smiled. “Yeah, yeah. See ya.”  
  
There’s a chorus of “Bye Stiles!” when he goes through the living room to the front door. He throws a “Later” over his shoulder and makes his way to his jeep, climbs in, and then drives off down the pathway.   
  


He doesn’t even have to look back to know that Scott is standing on porch watching him drive away.  
  
***

Of  _all_  the places for Stiles to run into Allison, he was definitely not expecting it to be a few nights later, at the club.

 

Well he doesn’t really run into her. More like, he’s dancing, happens to look up and sees her staring right at him from her spot at the bar.  
  
Like seriously, it’s two counties over. What is she even  _doing_  here?  
  
He can’t very well like, ignore her now that they’ve made eye contact. He pulls away from Amber, citing that he’s thirsty, makes his way over to where Allison is leaning against the bar. “Hey.”  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Uh. Not that this isn’t totally cool or anything, but what are you doing here? This really doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”  
  
She arches an eyebrow at him. “My chem lab partner decided that we’d done enough work for the week. We’re here to ‘cut loose’ or something. What are you doing here?”  
  
“Um. Uh.  _Well_ —”  
  
Before he can even come up with a decent excuse, Amber is standing next to him, tugging at his shirt.

 

“Hey!” she exclaims “Can you get me a drink too?”  
  
Stiles gives her a  _look_. “Dude.” he goes. “I’m not old enough to buy alcohol. I was just getting some water.”  
  
Amber clicks her tongue in disappointment. “Fine, fine. I’ll get my own drink. Do you want something?”  
  
“No—no. I’m good.”  
  
“‘Kay.”  
  
When she has her drink, she gleefully informs Stiles that he can have some it later if he wants, and that she wants him to come to the back when he’s done obviously not getting something to drink. And then she flounces away.  
  
Stiles turns back to Allison, who has both brows raised in puzzlement and fuck, he knows there is no excuse he can come up with that will get her to leave this alone.  
  
“Look,” he says. “please don’t tell the pack you saw me here. It’s, uh. Kind of important? That no one knows about this?” And shit if  _that_  doesn’t sound suspicious as hell. he should just stop talking forever.  
  


Allison comes closer to him, lowering her chin to give him a level look. “Stiles, are you in some kind of—”  
  
“No!” he says quickly. “No. Just—this is something I’d rather… keep to myself? For now at least.”  
  
“We’re in a pack, Stiles.” she tells him. “A  _werewolf_  pack. I can’t lie to them.”  
  
“You don’t have to lie. Just don’t about it. And if you have to, you should  _definitely_  not talk about how you saw me here. It’s that simple.”  
  
She gives him a look. Because yeah, he knows it’s not that simple.  
  
He says “Thanks,” and then leaves her at the bar in search of Amber, heart pounding in his chest because he has a distinct feeling that this is going to come back and bite him in the ass.  
  
***  
  
He’s right. it bites him in the ass.

 

As soon as he walks through the door of the Hale house three days later, he feels it. 

 

It’s quiet, like they were talking and then suddenly stopped, which he has no doubt is what happened.  
  


He gives Allison an incriminating look but she only gives him a small smiles and then avoids his eyes.  
  


He clears his throat and closes the door behind him. “Hey guys. What’s up?”  
  
“Oh, not much.” Isaac says cooly. “What’s up with you?”  
  
“Uh, well. I found out I have to take the Jeep in for a tune up. She hasn’t been up to par, lately.”  
  
He waits for a snide remark from Jackson or Erica about how his Jeep is even worth it, and when it doesn’t come, he  _knows_  they know. Know something, at least.

 

“…Okay well. I just came to see if there was anything you guys wanted me to get before I go to the grocery store? Because it;s my turn to shop, right?”  
  
“Yeah.” Scott says quietly.  
  
“Uh. Okay well. I’m just… gonna, you know. Do that.” 

 

He turns and leaves and is actually quite proud of himself for not hightailing it to the Jeep and getting the hell out of there.  
  
He does actually go grocery shopping, but stores everything at his house and shoots a text to the pack to let them know to come pick it up because he’s having some more trouble with the Jeep, then calls Amber and asks her to come get him for rehearsal.  
  
He hops in her Santa Fe and they are pulling off down the street when he sees the camaro come around the corner and pull into his driveway. No one get’s out and he knows that he’s being watched.  
  


“Fuck,” he mutters.  
  
***

He inadvertently ends up avoiding the pack for the next week. And it’s not that hard because school let out and since his days are free now, he mostly spends them dancing with Amber and the rest of the group for thee performance which is at the end that week.  
  
He tells his Dad that he sort of found a temporary job and that it’s a project and the deadline is coming, so he won;t be around much. His Dad makes a slight comment about how he doesn’t really see Stiles anymore anyway, which is okay because he knows he has new friends and such, and the he hopes everything goes well with his job.  
  
He ends up staying with Amber a few times because that just made it that much easier to get to and from practice since she lives like two blocks away from the club.

 

The pack texts him pretty much nonstop since the first time he doesn’t come home. He reassures them that he’s fine and in no danger and that he’ll see them later, probably next week. Amber yells at him to get off his phone and to get back into position. And that’s the last time he touches his phone for some days.  
  
The re-opening of the club kind of sneaks up on him. He knew it was coming, but it just came around a lost faster than he was expecting, and before he knows it, he’s in the passenger seat of Amber’s car and then back stage at the club putting on clothes that aren’t his. it’s loud and everyone is really pumped up and talking all around him, all at once, and he can feel his heart hammering in his chest. Someone must have known his nerves were becoming a thing because before he knows it there’s a shot of something in his hand. The dancers toast and cheer and throw back their own shots. Stiles shrugs and figures  _What the hell, right_  and downs his in one go. It burns going down his throat and he makes a face at the bad aftertaste and then the others are laughing at him and clapping him on the back.  
  
He feels a little better, but he’s still nervous. He can feel his muscles relaxing and his heartbeat slowing but just the thought of what he’s about to do is enough to jack it back up to an almost inhuman speed.

 

“Okay!” Amber hollers. “We’re going, we’re going on! Everyone get in your spots!”  
  


He doesn’t remember moving but he’s in position. There’s a girl, Riley he recalls, pressed against his chest and has his hand on her lower back. The curtains are drawn back and the EmCee is hyping up the crowd for the performers. Then the music starts, and everyone is moving.

 

Stiles moves with the ease of well practiced precision that knows is damn near ingrained into his muscles. He has a partner for a majority of the first song, but then he’s by himself because everyone freestyles at some point. And he doesn’t know—he just  _moves_. It’s like, one of the most freeing and spirited things he’s ever done. The light is on him, but his eyes are closed. He spins, and jumps, and slides, and waves and rolls his body, rolls his  _hips_  in a way that he doesn’t remember being able to do. The crowd is loud and he loves it, because he knows it’s for him, if only for that moment.  
  
The song changes and it’s slow and powerful and sexy. Stiles dances with two girls for this routine. They are all over him. he goes back and forth between this girl, and then the other, and their hands are on his shoulders and chest and back and legs, and then he’s dipping one of them, and the other girl’s lips brush against his skin, which he knows isn’t rehearsed, but there’s nothing he can do about it and wow, he’s a little turned on now.  
  
One girl presses her hand to his chest and walks him back, rocking her hips with every step, and then they roll their bodies to each other, and the other girl draws his face to her, and then they are both wrapped in one of his respective arms and the song ends and the crowd—the  _crowd_ , god. They cheer and hoot and holler and he feels amazing. 

 

The performance is over and everyone is backstage, hugging each other and stuff, and then there’s another round of shots. Someone says it’s tequila, and Stiles has never had tequila before, so he throws it back with the rest of them. 

 

His muscles feel weird, but in a good way, and he’s laughing with everyone. People start breaking off and heading to the dancefloor. Stiles does the same, except he just goes to the bar to get another shot of tequila because, hey, why not?  
  
He’s intercepted halfway there by— _Erica?_

 

“Stiles,” she purrs. “I didn’t know you could do that.”  
  
“Oh.” he blinks, not registering her presence. “Well. There you go. ‘Scuse me.”  
  
He spins around her, and then someone tugs on his arm, and when he looks over, he sees Scott, and next to him is Allison.  
  
 _“Dude,_ what! That was  _amazing!”_  Scott exclaims, hugging Stiles.

 

“Thanks. Thanks. Uh—”  
  
“You were great, Stiles.” Allison cuts in. “Why didn’t you just say you were doing this?”  
  
“Um. Wait—what are you guys doing here?” Stiles questions.  
  
They glance at each other, and then sheepishly look at him. “Well,” Allison starts. “The pack was a little worried. You were gone.”  
  
“Wait, hold on.” Stiles says. He turns around and get’s to the bar. Since he was in the routine tonight, he get’s free drinks, regardless of the fact that he’s only 17. Amber was the only one who was aware of his underageness, but whatever. Alcohol.

 

He orders two more shots, and then throws them back one after the other, and then goes back to Scott and Allison.  
  
When he finds them, more of the pack is with them.  
  
“What.” Stiles goes.  
  
” _Well_.” Lydia says. “You really know how throw people through a loop, Stiles.”  
  
“Wha—”  
  
“That was pretty hot. Erica likes.” Erica gives a feral grin.

 

“Uh, what.” Stiles says. He’s not understand why they are here. Or why he’s there for that matter. He’s barely aware that there are people around them dancing.  
  
“Basically,” Scott says. “We were, uh, concerned, about what was going on, because dude, you’ve been acting weird for a while. But now we know why. Anyway, Allison said she wanted to go out.”  
  
“Well. I wanted to celebrate the beginning of summer properly. And besides, this club is pretty popular. So I thought, why not?” Allison continues innocently.

 

Ah. Allison. he should have known.  
  
Isaac steps forward. “Well. This has been great, really. But we’re all standing around at a club, and personally, I’d rather  _not_  be doing that, so I’m gonna just—” and then he’s gone, disappeared into the crowd. Erica and Boyd follow suit Lydia pulls Jackson off somewhere, and Allison and Scott proceed to go off somewhere semi-private, presumably to suck face, and Stiles is by himself gain.

 

Except not really because when he turns to go back to the bar, he bumps into Derek, whom he didn’t even know was standing next to him. He stumbles a but, but regains his footing when Derek reaches a hand out to steady him.  
  
Derek sniffs the air around Stiles, and makes a face. “You’re drunk.”

 

“Only a little, sourwolf.” Stiles grins. “Did you like the show?”  
  
Derek smirks. “Sure. You were okay.”

 

Stiles snorts. “Only okay? No. I was  _awesome._ ”

 

“if you say so,” Derek says. “But you could stand to learn a few things”  
  
Stiles looks up at him with defiant eyes. “Oh really.”  
  
Derek’s eyes flash red for a second before he grabs Stiles shirt and pulls him closer. “Yeah. And as it so happens, I’m a great teacher.”  
  
Stiles begs to differ, because past experience speaks otherwise.  
  
He looks Derek right in the eyes and grins a little deviously. “Prove it.”  
  
Derek rises to the challenge,  _and then some._


End file.
